


Tinted

by psychopathicInsanity



Category: One Direction
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Eating Disorders, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-10-27
Updated: 2013-11-29
Packaged: 2017-12-30 15:00:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,904
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1020071
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/psychopathicInsanity/pseuds/psychopathicInsanity
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Louis has worked his whole life to keep his image absolutely perfect. He has drilled his self-image down to the final detail, spent hours in front of a mirror, narrowing out his every slight imperfection and working upon it. Even though peers remain blind to his thin line of self-confidence veiled by his clever humour and crazy attitude, it lays in every aspect of his life. He pays credit to his acting abilities for the cover-up to what really lies beneath the blinding smile and loud laugh. It isn't until he starts letting the strings holding together to his life slowly unravel that he realizes how badly he needs someone to mend his breaks and make him whole again. He just never expected to find it like this...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Mask

“Alright, folks. Great rehearsal. I expect to see that exact same ferocity and energy for our next one Monday evening,” bellows Simon over the cast members, content smile playing over his lips. Over the last few weeks of rehearsals, his shouts of inexplicable frustration and fits of seething rage had been almost inescapable, curses being slung away at the tireless actors and crew. This had been the first rehearsal Simon had acknowledged their hard work, allowing them to finally breathe easily under his glare. “Now, there are of course our weak spots but improvements are only limited to a few of you now. This will be covered throughout our next run-through. You are all dismissed,” he calls out, gesturing towards the crowd with a firm hand. They all disperse but Louis remains behind, eyes darting around him as anxiety envelopes his entire form.

He clears his throat once he knows everyone has left the stage, tugging nervously on the edge of his buttoned shirt. “You wanted a word with me, sir?” Louis swallows down the knot forming in the back of his throat, keeping his eyes trained ahead of him rather than falling down to the stage floor. All he could worry was that his performance had been mediocre at best and that Simon will be cutting him from the cast.

Simon nods curtly, fixing his eyes delicately on Louis’ deep cerulean irises, “yes. I was watching you very closely today,” Simon states, feet pacing beneath him as he seamlessly wanders over to pick up the notes he has jotted down. “And I couldn’t help but notice that the fire in your eyes, the spark of warmth you usually exude in every performance, just wasn’t present today. Now you know I favour you among all my cast because of your dedication to always improve,” Louis swallows down fear. This must be it, he tells himself. Simon is letting him down easy. “And I am worried for you. In all my years of knowing you, I have never seen you that downtrodden. May I ask why?”

Louis’ eyes focus on Simon, widening in disbelief. Why was he not cutting him from the cast? Why was he not getting the burning sensation deep in his chest from having curses and expletives thrown at him from every angle? “Why?” Simon just nods in gentle reply, lacing his arms across his chest. It shows authority but also, in its own form, support. “I just- I guess I was just a bit off my game today. I was a little lightheaded today thus why my focus was off and that energy disappeared. I promise Monday-“ Simon raises a firm hand, cutting Louis off from his rambling words. He captures his lip in between his teeth, worrying at it.

“Please, just ring me to let me know if you aren’t feeling well. I don’t want you pushing yourself to only make it worse. Just go get some rest, okay? You are dismissed, Tomlinson,” Simon smiles fondly. Louis just nods politely, hair hanging slightly in front of his vision. He doesn’t bother to move it from his eyes nor does he bother to move from the stage even after Simon has walked past him to the stage right, patting Louis’ shoulder as he passed. He just stands there, unsure of how to feel. He can’t help but feel like he had disappointed Simon to some extent. Even though he had assured Louis it was nothing major, that it was just an off day. He still felt that bile rising in his chest. That bile reminded himself of how he needed to improve, to become the best he could be. There was a lot to do still and it churned deep in his stomach, making his throat itch.

“Lou!” the high pitched voice pulls Louis from his mountainous thoughts of self-loathing, bringing his attention to the girl making her way across to him, brown curls dancing delicately against her shoulders with each stride. He allows a small smile to wander across his lips though it does nothing to mask the doubt mirrored in his eyes. He’s just thankful Eleanor isn’t often very observant so when she bounds over, all smile and warm eyes, he can at least placate her with a forced grin. He tries not to flinch away when her delicate hand takes place on his upper arm, smile only tightening on his face. Thank God he’s an actor. “I hope you’re coming to Hannah’s party tonight,” she more so states than questions.

That’s right. Hannah, his ex though still very close friend, was scheduled to have a party arranged for all the cast and crew of the upcoming project, though Louis was positive that there would be plus ones and gate crashers so it was never going to just be the people he was certainly friendly with on a regular basis. He contains the sigh, bottling it up deep in the origins of his lungs.

“Yeah. Of course I am! Can’t turn a good party now, can I?” He really laces on the enthusiasm, bright smile dazzling across his lips. To anyone else it would definitely seem as though Louis was the happiest person but what he shows on the outside contrasted majorly to what he felt on the inside. He dreaded being out with people, being surrounded by people he knew he had to impress. He could see though with the slight dimple forming to the side of Eleanor’s mouth that she was definitely excited to have him coming. He knew that she wanted to be with him, had heard the whispers floating around backstage but never paid it any notice. She was a lovely girl, there was absolutely no denying that, but she just wasn’t Louis’ type.

“That’ll be great. But are you sure? You just seemed a little-“ she falters on her words, gaze falling to her shoes. Maybe she was going to admit Louis’ performance was horrid and just wanted to spare his feelings by leaving it unsaid. Either way, Louis got the gist. 

“Flat?” he laughs, trying to brighten the mood and knowing he succeeded when her eyes pick up again, regaining contact with Louis’. She gives a curt nod, confirming Louis’ suspicions. He really must have let it slip through today for her to notice. He understood Simon noticing, he had eyes like a hawk and paid very close attention to detail, but Eleanor. Well, no offence to El but she was just not… the sharpest tool in the shed especially when it came to clueing into other people’s emotions. “Just was feeling a bit ill is all. I am feeling quite alright now so the party won’t hurt me too much. Promise to look after me if I happen to get worse though, babe?” he pouts, hair falling just over his vision. He notes the small glint of lust floating in Eleanor’s eyes and knows how easy this is going to be.

“Of course! Well, I have your number so I’ll shoot you a text when I get there, yeah?” she asks hopefully, teeth scraping lightly over her lip. Louis almost wants to tell her that she should stop trying but it would probably be unfair after he’s been leading her on for so long. He just gives a simple nod in reply and she practically jumps in excitement, bouncing on her heels. 

She clasps her hands together hurriedly in front of her chest, smiling so wide Louis fears her face might just split in two. “Wonderful! See you then, Lou!” she calls over her shoulder as she slowly walks away from him, disappearing off stage. Louis continues to hear the soft clacking of her heels against the timber flooring. He waits till there is absolutely no sound before sighing loudly into the expansive space. He feels like curling into a ball right where he is but that’s useless. It won’t solve anything. It won’t solve the horrible hunger buried deep in his stomach nor the itching at the back of his throat. He’s too broken now.

He shakes away his thoughts, the thoughts that he tries to keep pushed to the back of his mind so he doesn’t just crack apart one day and reveal all those parts he’s promised to keep hidden all these years. He knows that once the word gets out, that once all his little insecurities are put on display, no one will see him the same. He will just be seen as poor, fragile Louis. And he can’t deal with that image. Even when it’s the truth.

C’mon Lou, pull it together. He clenches his fist by his side as he finally moves from his spot of the last half hour, walking off stage to collect his duffle bag full of costumes and notebooks. He slings it over his shoulder, pulling his iPod out of his side pocket and putting the earphones in. He presses play, not bothering to select a song. Louis leaves the theatre walls, Bruno Mar’s playing deftly in his ears, singing soft lies to him. 

~

“Where did you say you were off to?” Liam calls from the dining room, hunched over his mountain of textbooks. Louis stares at himself in the bathroom mirror, trying his hardest not to scowl pathetically at the reflection. He instead just flicks off the light and leaving the image behind him, figuring he can’t really improve his image much further.

“Hannah’s,” he replies coolly, standing on the opposite side of the table to Liam. Liam looks up through his wide brown eyes, searching Louis’ blues for any signs of distress. He was the only one who really understood how Louis felt, trapped within a dark hole with no lights to guide him out. He might not know the full extent of his inner turmoil but he still saw it in Louis’ clear eyes. Louis just continued to be cool about it all, passing himself off to be indifferent to the mention of the party. 

“Now are you sure you want to go?” Liam asks again for the 27th time since Louis stepped through the front door to their shared apartment. He loved the guy, he caused absolutely no trouble for him and was the constant supporting figure for him but bloody Hell he hated being held underneath his gaze, knowing he can spot Louis’ uncertainty from a mile off if he shows the slightest hint. It’s hard to imagine that Liam is younger than Louis is because he fawns over Louis like he raised the guy. It wasn’t completely untrue though since they had spent a large portion of their childhood together and in turn, learnt many habits off of one another.

“Liam,” he drops his elbows down onto the table surface and leans onto them, coming into direct contact with Liam’s searching eyes. “I promise, I really do want to go. I’ll call or text if there are any problems, okay?” Liam’s eyes stay solely focused on Louis’ and for moment Louis almost thinks his guard is up but Liam just nods, letting his eyes return back to the words of his textbook.

“Alright, I guess I can take your word for it. But if you want me to come-“

Louis scoffs, cutting off the remainder of his sentence. “Don’t be daft! You have that exam coming up soon and like Hell am I going to let you spend precious studying time watching my sorry ass at an amateur party. It’ll be fine, babe. Promise!” Louis reassures, grin plastered over his lips. It’s all teeth and it just absolutely eats at Liam and he knows he’s won by the way the creases between his eyebrows smooth out.

“Right, well call me if you need anything?” he asks again, determined to keep Louis’ safety in check. Even though his eyes stare down at the words on the page of “Health hazards in fire circumstances”, he’s not actually withdrawing any of the information, still primarily focused on Louis.

“Sure, dude. Hey,” he calls again, straightening himself up and flatting out the front of his button-up blue shirt, already having made sure there were little to no wrinkles evident before slipping it over his head in his room. He had gone for a casual look for the evening, already having heard that Hannah would be using her parent’s house for the venue. Most likely everyone would be throwing themselves into the pool but Louis had no intent on even one of his toes marring the surface of the cold water. He thought the buttoned shirt and green shorts would create just the image he was searching for. “How do I look?” he asks, spreading his arms out by his side and letting Liam’s gaze scan his appearance. He tries not to feel uncomfortable under the judgement of his eyes and is just waiting for the criticism but it doesn’t come.  
“Look great as always. But hey, wasn’t that shirt small on you last month?” the concern washes through his voice but Louis ignores it, simply shrugging as he lets himself out the front door.


	2. Under the Lights

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Parties are always fun, right? But is it really ever a given that you are going to meet your soul mate at one? Nope. It's very unlikely. Well, usually. Because, much like the dumb romantic comedies, Louis is going to find himself falling head over heels for the least expected member of society.

It didn’t take long before Louis was beginning to feel that unmistakable drowsiness from the inducing of varying alcohols. From the shots in the kitchen, to the champagne in the living room, to the stray beer cups lying along the balcony railings, Louis had partaken in them all. He was pretty sure even the cup of lemonade he had stolen from the top shelf of Hannah’s fridge had been slipped some alcohol as well but by then, he was too far gone to notice. 

His head thrummed loudly along with the music, body moving clumsily against the many others as he bumped his way into the centre of the makeshift dance floor. He was not a particularly pleasant dancer on his good days and there was no hope for him with his blood alcohol levels. He mumbled a few “sorry’s” as his shoulder made contact with a few people but judging with their constant swaying, Louis would go as far to guess that they probably were at his level of drunkenness and probably didn’t give a fuck if some guy barged past.

As he lazily sways amidst a sea of swaying bodies, heat radiating off each person with the constricted space, he stealthily steals a full cup of some form of alcohol from his neighbour. Louis can’t really determine what it is but it goes down the back of his throat with a slight burning so he figures it’s what he was looking for regardless. The burn it leaves is becoming more pleasant with each sinful sip and Louis finds himself craving more and more of the deadly substance. He reaches out blindly, trying to coax a cup from the palms of another party-goer. However, the blue eyed lad found himself with his fingertips wrapping around the man’s bicep. 

Louis expects to be thrown to the ground in a fit of rage, foot colliding with the fragile bone of his rib. He expects to be shoved away, cursed at. What he does not expect is for the rather muscular fellow to turn around with a simply dazzling smile shining brightly on his expression, arm not pulling away from Louis’ most unwelcome touching.

“Erm, sorry mate,” Louis chuckles, slightly off guard by the way those green eyes sparkle alongside his smile despite his slip-up in first appearances. “I just- I was trying to-“ Louis furrows his brow thoughtfully, licking his lips in desperation for the words trying to form on his tongue.

“Steal my drink?” the stranger asks like that is the most normal bloody thing for a person to do at a party. “I figured as much after you stole that blokes and those two girls’ beverages straight from their hands. You either made your way over here to get to the bathroom and vomit or to grab another buzz.” It is actually slightly annoying that this kid has figured out Louis’ sneaky little trick and he really isn’t sure how to handle the situation so he throws up all his guards.

“Oh, so I suppose you’ve been watching me?” he asks, finally managing to pull his grip away from the boys arm and tuck it underneath the other. The curly-headed fellow just continues to smile even wider (which Louis thought was a bloody miracle considering it already overtook a large portion of his face), subtly moving closer to Louis’ presence. 

“I guess you could say I was a little bit fascinated by some of the moves you exhibited on the dance floor earlier..” he whispers, low and breathy along Louis’ shoulder. Louis tries to mask the slight intake of breath, the colour rising to his cheeks but that can easily be mistaken for his alcohol consumption rather than embarrassment. Not that he was particularly embarrassed at all…

“Bit forward for a complete stranger to say, innit?” he retorts, hand resting on his hip. He looks ridiculous; all red-cheeked, hand gripping onto his hip which is jutted out to the side. The stranger just lets out a hearty chuckle which makes Louis both want to melt and punch him in the face.

“Well, I suppose I should introduce myself then, eh?” the dimple just sits idly by the side of his mouth. Louis just fucking glares at it like it’s some huge monster threatening to eat him up. “Name’s Harry…” he reaches out a (overly-sized in Louis’ opinion) hand in greeting. Just perhaps a little bit too formal for the kind of party they are at but Louis takes it in his own anyways, immediately feeling like a child holding their mother’s hand.

“Bloody hell, mate. Your hands are HUGE,” the Doncaster lad says without thought, staring down at Louis’ almost miniature hand grasped tightly in the boy’s grip. Before Louis even comprehends what he is doing, his finger traces lightly over the Harry’s large fingers, tracing up to his very fingertips. “Are you on steroids or…? How does that even happen?”

Harry just shrugs in response, chuckling at how the older lad was responding to his hand size (of all things). His green eyes stare carefully trained on the gentle movements of Louis’ finger along his own, mesmerized by his touch. He clears the large lump in his throat, subtly moving closer to the shorter bloke. “So, uh, you got a name yourself or are you one of those mysterious drifters living without a name or a purpose?” The obnoxious laugh he gets in response makes Harry’s heart flutter deep in his chest and he can’t help but feel like coming to this party was the best decision he’s ever made. 

“Yeah, I just run by Leaping Antelope until I truly find what I was meant for,” he retorts, voice masked with much practiced sarcasm. “But I guess you can call me Louis if that suits you better?” 

“Louis?” The aforementioned lad thinks that maybe he’s blown it. All chances with this guy dropping to a minimal zero. He tries to hint the slight look of disappointment but it shines through in his features. Harry, charming fellow that he is, smiles shyly (which almost seems impossible at first), knowing EXACTLY what is needed to be said. “I like that name. Louis,” he drawls out slowly, allowing the sound of the name roll off his tongue and past his pump lips. 

The lights flash over each feature of the two boys, captivated in each other’s presence on the middle of a crowded dance floor. The smiles, reserved only for each other, pull across their lips and only mark the beginning of something truly beautiful.

~

The groan of instant disapproval to anything living sounds from the slack mouth of one Louis Tomlinson. Fuck sunlight and fuck hangovers, he thinks to himself as he buries his face deep into the soft confines of the pillow, finding solace from rude sunlight peeking through the curtains. 

Wait…

Louis jolts up suddenly, head pounding in disagreement with the unexpected movement. The disgruntled lad looks around the strange room, vision hazy from the lingering toxins still running through his blood stream. It was never really a good thing to wake up with a hangover but even worse when you don’t know where the fuck you are. Old band memorabilia is tacked haphazardly to the light pink of the walls, The Beatle’s staring heavily into Louis’ soul. His eyes capture more and more small details of the room. The little height markings gradually shown along the frame of the door, one pair of (close to broken) brown boots thrown into the corner, golf balls displayed on one of the shelfs of the resident desk, housing hazardous amounts of crumpled sheets that failed to reach the bin as well as the DVD case to “Love Actually”. So far, from what Louis has collected, this must be a girls’ room.

“Hi. Sorry if I woke you,” a gruff voice sounds from the doorway, startling the poor Doncaster lad into almost falling off the bed. Green eyes meet the familiar blue and suddenly Louis understands. This is no girls’ room. No, he was WAY off the mark with that one. It was none other than a certain Mr Harry Styles. “Just ran down to the shops to grab some stuff and that for breakfast if you’re keen?”

“Uh…” Uh… Okay. He has no idea what to say. He is ridiculously hungry right now and could definitely go for a full English breakfast but he can’t help like feel this ‘morning after’ might be a fraction awkward. The fraction that makes Louis want throw himself out of a moving car onto a busy highway. “Sure,” he replies without thought, mentally cursing himself. He blames it on the dumb dimple (and the alcohol). He has met a new enemy in that thing.

“Cool. By the way, I chucked your laundry through the wish since you kind of had,” Harry pauses momentarily, gesturing towards his own outfit for some weird reason, “stuff all over it.” OH. “You can just borrow some clothes of mine if you’d like.”

“Oh, well, yeah, cool. Thanks. You didn’t need to do that, y’know?” Louis stuffs his hands into his lap, really climbing the awkward ladder at a fast place by now. You would honestly think the God forsaken morning glory could stay at bay for at least ONE day but obviously the whole world is just conspiring against poor Louis Tomlinson. 

“Oh shhh Lou,” he just called him Lou! “As if I was gonna let you walk home in that. That’s gross!” Harry exaggerates the term by scrunching up his nose in utter disgust which leads to an absolutely horrendous laugh escaping Louis’ thin lips. “Well, you get more rest, okay? I’ll run down and make us some breakfast so you don’t feel like complete and utter shit for the rest of the day.” He flashes a breathtaking smile and as soon as he leaves the room, Louis flops downwards onto the bed, letting out a huge sigh of relief and allowing his hand to slide away from his previously concealed erection. 

He can’t quite pinpoint just what it is that they got up to last night but he’s piecing the puzzle together and he’s starting to wish that he had never agreed to going out to that party in the first place…

**Author's Note:**

> Don't worry! Harry will be introduced VERY SOON. And by VERY SOON I mean next chapter!


End file.
